The Goat Yard

Lowell prepares for the great moment when they blow up the Seven
Sisters

The Goat yard could quite possibly be the location where Popeye
spent his youth. Actually, it's a boat yard, but it used to have a goat roaming around the
yards for a couple of years until the dogs got together and tore it limb from limb.
Anyway, the name stuck, so everybody calls it the Goat Yard.
This is where I go for contemplation, conversation and friendship. As one enters the Goat
Yard one is scrutinized and greeted with familiarity or hostility - as the situation
requires - by an assortment of dogs and inmates.
I pull up and listen in on an ongoing conversation concerning the capsized yacht in the
canal. They've been talking about this wreck for years. Some want to raise it and
everybody has their favorite method which they cling to with a fervor that is....admirable.

Sailboats being readied for the season

Personally, I think they should dynamite it so we can move on to
talk about other things. Across from my beer swilling friends is a large abandoned brick
factory. Only the lower floor is habitable now; that's there the members meet during
inclement weather or during the winter.
I take a walk to the outlet of the canal which empties into the Detroit River. As I walk
towards the canal outlet I pass through a small forest. I can see old boats in there;
luxury craft from the '50's. Trees are growing from inside some of the boats. It is a
magnificent graveyard.

Further along there is a pile of old sails that has got to be at
lease fifteen feet high. My dog flushes a pheasant from under a bush. I stand at the
outlet. From here I can see downtown Detroit, Belle Isle, Canada.